Dragonflies and Broken Wings
by Elijah Blackwood
Summary: Chester Lewis was never one who lived in a life of luxury. He loved the calm and quiet of deep woods in the middle of nowhere. Little did Chester know, the geography was appealing to more than just country boys. -\DragonAnthro-Timmy X Chester/ AU! (obviously)
1. Strange Footprints

My name is Chester Lewis, and I'm just a forest dweller in Marquette, Michigan. I live in a cabin by a small lake in my back yard, with a slope in the front. The left side open, giving in light on the trail that is blocked on the right side by trees. I live about an hour away from a main road, and two and a half hours from a Wal-Mart. Needless to say, no one stops by to visit.

Obviously, I don't get out of the woods much. I'm a wildlife photographer, and I'm payed enough to live in a much nicer place, but I love my house. I can walk into the front yard, head down the trail, and a hundred feet away is the start of dense forests, waterfalls, rivers, and maze-like caves.

I have no tv, no cellphone, or anything really electronic. I have a fridge, plumbing, running water, an oven/stovetop and a microwave. I have only the necessities- a queen sized bed in the bedroom, a couch and bookshelf in the 'living room', a small wooden table with wooden chairs in the kitchen, a small shower and sink in the bathroom- and on the back deck, facing the lake, is a porch swing.

It's very quiet, this deep in the woods. All you hear are wolves, owls, birds, and the like; creatures that are common pretty much anywhere you go. I never get lonely here, by myself, I have a Saint Bernard named Cujo. He's the sweetest dog you'll ever meet, unless you threaten my safety. At that point, I can't guarantee you'll live to tell the tale.

Cujo walks out of the house and sits beside the chair I'm sitting in. "Wanna go for a walk, boy?" I ask. He stands, wagging his tail happily, thumping it against my leg. "It's settled then. Let me get dressed." I go into my bedroom and change in front of my floor-length mirror.

Leather jacket, white tee shirt, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. I take one last look in the mirror, my blonde hair is cut at my chin, bits of brown in it. I'm strong but far from muscular, I'm as scrawny as I was in middle school, albeit taller. I brush my teeth, my teeth white and straight. Braces did pay off. Even though it took a couple years to do it. But what does that matter now? I'm 23 and free from everything.

Smiling to myself, I meet Cujo outside as he walks beside me. He's an obedient dog who never runs away, except home, that is. He's a bit of a scaredy cat. Or dog. You know, whatever.

We continue walking when I hear bones cracking underfoot. Looking down, I examine them. Deer bones. Fresh. A few hours old at most. Flies swarm the bones, searching for scraps of meat.

I look back, the house is relatively far away from this point in the woods; I can't even see the silhouette of the house through the trees. I know this couldn't have been my kill. I only hunt once every few weeks and, even then, I never leave this kind of mess behind.

I crouch onto one knee, looking at it closer. Cujo looks at it quizzically, standing a small ways from it. The bones seem to be picked clean, but the predator left in a rush because there's some left. I feel my gut wrench. There are teeth marks on the bones, but not normal canines. This is a full mouth of sharp teeth, all of them sharper than a cleaver.

I see a strange half-print a feet away and stand, looking at them. No animal tracks I've seen before. If I didn't know better I'd say it was an animal with claws as long as my middle finger to my wrist. Now that's a story to tell.

I follow the tracks as they get further apart, it started running. But what from? Then they just stop and seem to disappear. Then, I notice something unnerving. Human footprints, running at the same pace and stride as the animal.

Something is very strange. I don't think I like it.


	2. Hunger Proceeds

I started to pick up my pace as Cujo waited behind. If he could speak he would probably be saying "Yeah, uh, you go on, I'll keep an eye on these footprints...right here." I laugh inwardly at myself only for a second as I notice a steadier, as well as slower, pace pattern in the prints.

I take a deep breath when I see something through a pair of bushes nearby, an opening to an underground cave. I notice the footprints stop in front of the bushes. Maybe the person is sick or in trouble. I scratch my nails roughly against my head, "Tch, no one is stupid enough to run around here on their own are they?" I sigh_, **I'm** out here on my own._

Frowning, I reach the bushes and sit at the mouth of the cave. It's pitch black. I'm about to stand so I can turn back when my foot slips. I start sliding down into the cave at an accelerating pace.

If it wasn't for the fact I knew that there were no poisonous spiders in the area, I would've freaked out by how many cobwebs I hit. Once I hit the bottom with a painful thud, I stood and looked around. The only light being let in was from the cave entrance, I'd never find this person. I hear a whimper a few feet away.

"Hello?" I call questioningly, hoping I'm not imagining things, or worse, that I actually hear it. I follow the second whimper, into a small pocket to the right, and see a black mass curled into fetal position. A small shred of light comes in and I see a strip of long brown hair.

_So it is a person._ I lean down to shake the person awake and I realize they're shoulders are bare, they must be really cold down here. My eyes drift over what I can see in this crappy lack of lighting. Long, light brown hair, smooth, tannish skin, a shapely-kind-of-skinny body type, spine protrusion slightly in the back. My eyes notice small dimple-like indentations of the lower back and my eyes naturally jerk away fiercely. My face flushes, _oh god, this chick is completely naked_.*

I hurriedly wrap my over-sized leather jacket around them, helping them stand. They wrap it around them completely and I walk them into the main part of the cave. I don't look at them as I try to think of a way out. Plus, I don't want to remember if I **did **see anything.

I sigh, scratching my head roughly in frustration when they tap me on the shoulder with their available hand, using their index finger. I turn my face to them and they point to the left corridor, "Can I leave that way?" I ask and silently they start walking that way. "I'll take that as a yes."

We turn at least ten times then we're back out in the open air. _Well, that was unexpected._I wrap a supporting arm around their shoulders and lead them on the path to my house. They're silent except for occasional sounds coming from their nose and the back of their throat.

It's strange, to say the least. It's a cross between a growling stomach, a cat's purr, and a bird's guttural twittering. I'd never heard such a sound before until today. I hear the girl's stomach growl fiercely and I chuckle when she jumps at the loudness of the sound. "I'll get you something to eat, then we can talk about why you're out here in the middle of nowhere, hm?"

My comment goes unanswered as we reach the cabin. Cujo is already sitting on the porch, waiting patiently. He looks alarmed by the person beside me and he growls, his lips pulling back to reveal his teeth as his fur bristles and his ears shift back. "Weird dog." I say, passing by him and taking the girl inside.

We reach inside and she stiffens, stopping in place. At this point, I feel a little awkward. Like I should be. I remember how dirty she was when she was curled up on the ground. "You can take a shower, I'll get you some clothes." I lead her to the bathroom and shut her inside, going to my dresser.

I inwardly facepalm, _I have no girls clothes, obviously_. I grab a pair of my boxers- a new pair I haven't worn yet- and I grab an over-sized 'Bite Me' sweatshirt. I knock on the bathroom door and I don't hear anything, so I assume that's an A-O.K. to come in.

I push open the door and the towel is wrapped around them and I remember thinking, _Wow, she's really flat-chested. I guess her face would make up for it. Wait, I haven't seen her face either, have I?_I hold out the clothes and they immediately drop the towel, and start putting on the clothes.

At this point, I realize something, the girl I found in the cave isn't a girl, but a boy. My eyes are glued to him as he tries to figure out how to pull the shirt over his lanky form. I walk over slowly, "Here. I'll help." He looks at me strangely, trying to fit his head through a sleeve and his arms through the neck hole. Surprisingly, I don't laugh.

I take it off him and my eyes glance over him for a brief second. He had to pull the boxers to the widest part of his hips to get it to even remotely fit,_ poor skinny kid_. Then I remember his issue with shirts,_ poor, stupid, skinny kid_. I pull the shirt off of him, "Put both of your arms out." He tilts his head slightly, in confusion by my guess. I show him and he sticks out both of his arms, palms down.

"Okay, that's good." I say, putting each sleeve to an arm and pull it back towards his head and put his head through it. He smiles wide in satisfaction and looks up at me, his eyes shining. Eyes that seemed to say 'Did I do it right?'

I smiled and laughed, "Yes, you did it right." He started jumping up and down, making purring noises with the ends of the long sleeves brought to his mouth that was curved in a feline-like grin. "Come on," I grinned. "Let's get you something to eat."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_  
_***Yes. Chester is a bit slow, then again everyone is in a state of shock, ne?**_

_**I AM SOOOOO SORRY, GUYS! I wanted to update later on because I'm writing a screenplay but I put that on haitus because I wanted to do this more so there WILL be regular updates!**_

_**Thanks for reading, hope you liked the chapter! :D**_


	3. Dovah Zah-Rin

I sit down across from him at the small, wooden dinner table. I had given him a bowl of soup, watching him eat ravenously. I entwined my fingers together and set my chin on them, taking in his features.

I had not noticed before but he has strange markings on his skin. Abstract, almost octagonal-like, shapes seeming to be engraved (if not upraised) from his skin. Sometimes they would catch the light and they would shimmer. Not glitter or something prissy like that, but it's like for a brief second you see the rainbow travel through it- like a rainbow made through crystals.

They were mainly around his eyes, on the sides of his neck, and his collarbone, from what I could see. "So, what's your name?" He made a combination of noises that seemed very familiar. "Hold on." I took the notebook I was looking for, far to my left, and opened a page, pencil ready.

"Repeat that again?" He did and I managed to get the gist of it, "Rah-Zin!" he seemed to repeat over and over in frustration. I sighed, "Okay, okay, I got it. Your name is Rah-Zin." He exhales from his nostrils, causing them to flutter slightly, like a horse, as he rolls his eyes. I replay it in my head, it's no type of pronunciation in English. _So maybe it's foreign? Dead language, possibly?_

Then it clicks,_ he obviously understands me enough but I don't speak what he can. Maybe if I hear enough I can guess the language. I do have tons of multilingual dictionaries on my bookshelf._ "What are you, where are you from?" Realizing I said- what rather than who- I am about to correct myself when he speaks again, a light breezy sound, "Dovah nol bii strunma." I write it down, then a thought occurs to me.

I've heard this somewhere before, maybe it was on a videogame my friend Sanjay showed me once. I think back, _he was into video games, Middle Earth, dungeons and dragons-_ my brain stops. _Maybe that's it._

I run up to my bookshelf and grab a book he bought me as a joke one year **_Spoken by A Dragon: A Guide to Dovah Tinvaak_**. I look at what he's told me so far. _His name means God Honor, and he is a dragon from the blue mountains. Wait, A DRAGON?!_ "Wait, how are you a dragon?! No horns, no wings, no tail!" He opens his mouth fully for the first time and I see his razor sharp canines, the rest only slightly sharp. Suddenly I feel sick.

The look must have shown on my face because he closes his mouth quickly and looks at me apologetically. "Dovah oth, jul... fahdon?" I look it up. Rough translation is simply this,_ I'm an orphan, is man_ (meaning me)_ my friend?_ My breath caught in my throat, "Yes, but... you need to learn to speak English so I can understand you."

His face contorts and he takes off his shirt and sits on the floor in front of me, showing his back. Tattoos of torn, scaly wings reach down his back and now I also notice a tattoo of a tail wrapping down his left leg. "What about the horns?" I ask and he takes my hands and puts them in his tangled hair. I feel two sharp points, one with each hand. I nod, "You're right." It dawns on me, "You're still a youngblood." He nods, mimicking me, "Dovah sahlo."

He_ is_ weak. _Very much so._ The large scars and bruises are proof. The look in his eyes are starting to reveal his words, making it unnecessary to look anything up.

I look out at the sun, slowly setting behind the trees and look at the clock a foot away from me._ It's late_. I instinctively yawn upon seeing the time. I get up and stretch, watching the boy sitting at my feet.

He looks up at me. He looks so much smaller in my clothes, clothes much too big for him. It makes me wonder if I really can teach him English. Even if I could, I wouldn't want him to forget his own language. So while he's healing and getting nourished, we can teach each other, right? Maybe there's more to this than I can see but oh well, too late now, isn't it?

I get up them help him too. "Put the shirt back on, we need to sleep and we're going to have to share the bed." he nods and I change in the bathroom before crawling in bed beside him. "You'll be okay, I'll take care of you." He looks up at me, like a small child and whispers, "Vaat?"

I hesitate, my eyes searching his in the darkness. "Vaat?!" he asks slightly louder, sounding desperate. "I promise, Rah-Zin." He smiles. "You know, I need to be able to call you something in English. So I'll remember. How about Timothy?" He exhales through his nose in a way that resembles a laugh.

"Okay, fine. How about Timmy?" He tilts his head and smiles, showing only a bit of teeth. Such a soft, trusting smile. "Goodnight." I whisper, turning onto my side. I feel his back against mine, "Pruzah vulon."

Funny thing about this... the entire time I was lying there, waiting to fall asleep, I would feel the rise and fall of his chest through my back. I would stay silent, listening, making sure his heart was still beating. Worried, no, petrified, he would suddenly stop breathing.

When Cujo finally came inside he laid in the corner of the room, facing the wall. I turned onto my other side and he immediately leaned back into me. I felt his heart more now, beating fast in his chest. Twice the amount of beats mine.

I secure the blanket around us and smile slightly, whispering right before I fall asleep. "Timmy, call me Chester..." I don't think I'll ever regret letting a dragon under my wing. You know, metaphorically speaking.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_

_**Yes, this is the dragon language in Skyrim. I was planning on Tim-Tim being unable to speak and then I just flipped my desk and said "You know what? I DO WHAT I WANT!"**_

_**oh, and guys, I. NEED. REVIEWS. S**_

_**Seriously, I need them.**_

_**I need to know what to improve on and all that jazz, AS WELL as knowing if anyone is actually still reading.**_

_**So... reviews, please?**_


	4. MUI IMPORTANTE! (I can't speak Spanish)

Hello to everyone who actually follows this fic!

I have some good news, I'm picking this fic back up.

It may take a while but I really want to.

To do this, though, I need you guys to do me a favor.

_Get more people to read and review this fic._

I need at least _**ten new reviews **_before starting on this fic.

Not on each chapter, mind you, but all together.

**NOTE: **

**-All reviews MUST BE ON STORY CHAPTERS.**

**-All reviews MUST BE ABOUT THE STORY ITSELF.**

**-All reviews MUST BE A COMMENT ON THE PLOT/CHARACTERS.**

**-IF THE COMMENTS DON'T FIT THOSE THREE REQUIREMENTS IT WILL NOT BE COUNTED.**

I love people who review on every chapter, though.

They keep me excited to write.

I also encourage constructive criticism.

Anyway, PM me or review if you want me to continue.

Oh, another thing.

**If I continue this fic, it will become T-rated.**

Ok, bye guys. :)

~Elijah X. Blackwood


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